


Talking Body

by lrs002



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Body Shots, Jealous Barry Allen, M/M, Pool Party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-25 15:17:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14381373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lrs002/pseuds/lrs002
Summary: A pool party wouldn't be complete without body shots.AN- Most of the words in this fic are taken straight from A Change in the Weather which is a Kurtbastian Fic for Glee fandom. I love the fic.





	Talking Body

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A Change in the Weather](https://archiveofourown.org/works/363823) by [cacophonylights](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cacophonylights/pseuds/cacophonylights). 



> Most of the words in this fic are taken straight from A Change in the Weather which is a Kurtbastian Fic for Glee fandom.  
> There is blanket permission from the author of a Change in the Weather saying others could play in her sandbox. If this bothers anybody enough to I will take it down.

To Barry (9:30pm): Hey sweetheart, how do you feel about pool parties?

That text had been from last night and even though he hadn’t been too confident but he had said he’d be there. He shown earlier this afternoon and he hung out a little bit with Len but had then told him to go have fun. Len had mentioned something about Body shots.

He’s been by himself for a while now drinking a little from plastic cups

He wanders over he can see Len lying back on a chair on the other side of the pool. He’s shirtless now, and a line of mostly girls and few boys is forming around him while a second, if a bit shorter, line forms next to Mick who is on another chair a few feet away. The sun is just starting to drift down toward the horizon, and under the blazing of late summer sunlight Len’s skin practically glows.

Someone sets up a giant bottle of tequila, a bowl full of lime slices, and a salt shaker between them, and Barry watches in fascination as the first girl, giggling madly, licks a stripe across Len’s abs before sprinkling salt there. Still tittering she places a lime slice in his mouth, before accepting a shot glass now full of clear liquid from someone and leaning over to lick the salt back up, toss the shot back, and bend down to pull the lime from his mouth. Another girl is repeating near identical actions on Mick.  
‘Body shots’ makes a lot more sense all of a sudden, and Barry is kind of wishing he hadn’t shoved Len off to have this kind of fun now that he’s seen what it entails. The girls aren’t so bad, mostly because he knows Len isn’t feeling any real attraction, but when he spots an annoyingly good-looking guy as the next in line Barry decides it’s time to act. If telling Len to go have fun was meant to show him how okay with all of this Barry was, well then indulging in some of that fun himself ought to really prove it right?  
Mostly, logical or not, Barry is committed to stepping in – overcommitted really, if his sudden desire to make sure Len can’t think of anything but him for the rest of the night is anything to go by – and he swallows down the rest of the punch in one gulp before tossing his cup aside and rounding the pool in long strides.  
He pushes his way to the front of the line, shoving obnoxiously hot guy out of the way in the process and ignoring the disgruntled protest that gets him. Len’s head tilts in his direction at the commotion and he looks almost surprised to see Barry looming over him for a moment before his expression morphs into one of challenge and amusement.  
“Body shots, Barry? Are you sure you’re up for it?” he teases, and normally Barry’s hackles would have gone up a bit at the tone but right now he’s feeling good, better than good really, sexy. And this, this is a game he suddenly knows he can win.

He smirks at Len as he leans down, licking a broad stripe up Len’s neck to his ear. Len taste like sweat and sunscreen and man, and Barry kind of just wants to run his tongue back up that path again as a spike of arousal shivers through him, but he manages to refrain, instead whispering hotly into the shell of Len’s ear, “I think the question is how up for it you’re going to be when I’m done.” He can see the bob of Len’s adam apple as he swallows heavy at Barry’s words, and oh yeah. Barry is so going to win this one.  
He accepts the shaker, sprinkling white flecks along the side of Len’s neck, mouth already watering at the thought of the table salt mixing in with the salty sweat sheened over tanned skin from being out in the heat of the day. Another hand is putting a lime slice between Len’s lips and a third is passing Barry a full-to-spilling shot glass.  
Barry pauses then, boldness surging through him, and hands the shot glass back over, taking the bottle instead. Len makes a questioning noise in his throat, unable to speak properly around the lime in his mouth, but Barry just amps up the wicked smile and tilts the bottle to splash tequila across Len’s chest and stomach, pooling in his navel. He doesn’t really know what he’s doing, hopes this is in fact as sexy as he’d thought and not ridiculous given the fact that he has an entire sea of onlookers, but Len’s eyes widen a bit, and someone in the line behind them hoots out their approval, and Barry feels a little more confident.

Intent now on not just stealing Len’s attention but putting on a damn good show too, he can feel the nerves he gets before a performance surge high along with the rush of adrenaline that always comes with them. With one last smile, and a look as heated as his blood feels, he leans in to lick up the salt before turning to the task of lapping up the alcohol from Len’s body.

He starts with long drags of his tongue over Len’s pecs, gathering droplets of the alcohol into his mouth and making the muscles beneath bronze skin jump satisfyingly. It is a heady mix of power and desire, doing this to another person – doing this to Len – and he knows that he would never have been this brave without alcohol in system. Len is all smooth skin and hard muscle under his mouth, warm and wet and intoxicating in ways that alcohol can never achieve. He wants more, wants to work his lips and tongue over every inch of the body below him, wants to pull every twitch and sound and jump of need from Len into his mouth, savoring the flavor of being wanted by someone he wants just as much in return. 

When he works his way down further, swirling the tip of his tongue over the wet ridges of Len’s abs and dipping into his belly button to suck up the pool of liquid there, he can feel Len breathing heavier under him. He can’t help but think of how he might make that breath catch if he went even lower, mind inevitably going to the thought of Len hard and heavy on his tongue (god it’s been a long time since he’s done that, had someone in his mouth. He never would have expected to miss it this much).

He’s not drunk enough to have forgotten their audience though, and even though the taste of Len’s skin has him half hard in his shorts he isn’t willing to put on that much of a show. Instead he settles on licking dangerously low, tongue teasing along the waistband of Len’s swim trunks and across the line of hair leading from belly button down. When he dips the tip of his tongue underneath the band just barely (head swimming and body thrumming) he can’t help but look up through lowered lashes at Len’s face.

Len is staring down at him in dark-eyed appreciation, bottom lip drawn tightly between his teeth (the lime has long since tumbled to rest at the crook of his neck) and hands clenched white-knuckled around the sides of the chaise as he breathes fast and desperate. His chest is heaving and he is looking at Barry like Barry is some kind of erotic dream he’d never hoped to have come true, and another rush of confidence sparks in Barry’s blood. He nips playfully then at one hipbone after he’s licked the skin clean, and Len honest-to-god moans, eyes fluttering shut briefly and back arching just a little, and Barry can’t keep the grin from his face. He’s pretty sure that he’s just cemented his win – though it is more honestly probably a mutual victory at this point considering how heated and tight his own skin feels.

He unfolds his body up over Len’s, taking the lime from where it has fallen and placing it back in Len’s mouth before leaning in to take it back with teeth and the barest brush of lips. He barely stops himself from bypassing the lime and just kissing, but resists. He doesn’t pull away though, hovering close and biting into the flesh of the fruit while it is still resting lightly against Len’s lips. Sour juice explodes over his tongue, drips down into Len’s mouth and Barry does spit the rind away then, no longer able to hold back and pressing in to lick the juice directly from Len’s parted lips. The action draws another breathy moan from the man below him, and when he slots a thigh between Len’s spread legs he grins in satisfaction to feel that Len is fully hard against him.

That, he will later think, is what gives him the final spike of self-confidence and arousal to pull away from Len’s mouth, leaning over to whisper into his ear, “Next time it’s your turn to lick me.”Len’s body jerks up into him at the words, strong hands grasping at his hips as Len turns his head to catch Barry’s mouth up in another kiss. Barry pulls back just a little, still enjoying the game of the tease, so that Len only manages to brush their lips together  
.  
“Jesus Barry, where’d you get a mouth like that?” Len groans. And the truth is Barry doesn’t know.


End file.
